


Arya Becomes a Woman

by 21citrouilles



Series: Faceless Man [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Age of Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/21citrouilles/pseuds/21citrouilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years in the future of my ongoing story, Winds of Change, in Braavo, when Jaqen returns from an assignment...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arya Becomes a Woman

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a bonus chapter at the end of the third part of my ongoing story, Winds of Change. It mentions one of the alternative endings of the story, but no spoilers about the story. It stands alone in itself. 
> 
> Jaqen H'ghar is my favourite male character after the Hound. Of course, these characters belong exclusively to GRRM.

**Arya**

 

I’d just finished rereading my sister’s latest letter. She had given birth to her second child, there in the Summer Islands. While I hadn’t visited her yet, the Islands being so far away, I knew how Port Lotus, the Palace and her house looked, as she’d sent me drawings of them. What a wonderful place it was, all lush and exotic – the last place I would have expected a Stark to end in. Her one level house of golden heart tree was big with large openings to catch the breeze.

Ours was the opposite: narrow and tall, with a blind façade overlooking a canal; the entry of each level shrouded with curtains, the furnishings precious, the decorations lavish, decadent. A no less strange place for the other Stark girl to be; her plight and her existence in Braavos still unknown to the royals of old and new in King’s Landing; would be always, with the talent of the Faceless Men to change appearance at will.

In this case it was a Faceless Girl. Or a woman. Maybe. Although I had finally flowered in the last year, it had done nothing to change my appearance much. I was still small with a modest bosom. Of course, keeping my hair short didn’t help in making me look more feminine but I had always thought that I looked grotesque with long hair. I still favoured tunics and britches - remnants of my fugitive days – more practical anyway than long, cumbersome dresses in my calling.

This time Sansa has sent me a recent portrait of herself - well, not so recent actually, (it took months for a missive to reach us and it was quite expensive too; but both of us could afford it easily). I looked at it enviously. She had grown even more beautiful in womanhood; her face like a northern queen’s with the body of a goddess. How that damned Hound must kiss the ground each new day of having such a prize.

I put both pieces of parchment on my nightstand and got up to face the full length mirror near my wardrobe. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the changes that I wanted. When I opened them again, I gazed in the mirror, examining the results critically. I had transformed my girlish white nightshift in a close fitting gown which hugged my new curves wonderfully, but something wasn’t right. _My face!_ My own face and hair didn’t suit this voluptuous body at all. I sighed in discouragement.

Somebody knocked on the door, followed by a well known voice.

“Lovely girl! A man would come in.”

Jaqen! He had been gone for quite a while on a difficult assignment and knowing that he was back overjoyed me so that I forgot my misgivings.

“Come in!” I yelled back.

He entered and leaned nonchalantly on the door jamb, tall and lanky with that long red and white hair. He too had not changed much; still as young looking as on the first day that I had met him, years ago. Wondering if this was his real face, I had asked him once that he show me his true face, but he had replied that it had been too long; he didn’t remember it. However, he always returned to this one after a mission and then I had understood then why it didn’t seem to age. Sometimes I sensed that he was much older than he looked by his infinite patience, his calm and unhurried ways.

His returning to the Jaqen H’ghar identity went against the rules of the guild. Each new identity must die, as the people and memories associated with it. Our living together was certainly a forbidden thing too. But the guild had no guards to check on its members. Although Faceless Men were the most feared and skilled assassins in the world, he was still a man with failings and weaknesses – when he had first asked to come with him, I had known that it was because I intrigued him and that he was lonely.

Before, I would have thrown myself at him and embraced him around his waist. But now that I was a child no more, it felt wrong and I stayed where I was.

“You’re back! I exclaimed inanely and he smiled, and then frowned as his gaze travelled on my shape.

“Why does the girl always want change into something that she’s not?”

I had forgotten about my appearance and reverted quickly to the way I was, blushing furiously. I jerked my head at the drawing. Jaqen walked to the nightstand and picked it up, gazing at it.

“Hmmm, the beautiful Lady Sansa. When will the girl discover that she’s as pretty as her sister in her own way?”

“You must be jesting, “I replied gruffly. “I look boyish. Maybe your taste runs to boys as lovers, if you’re so full of admiration for that type.”

Jaqen put the drawing back on the nightstand and exploded in great guffaws of laughter while I gazed at him in dismay. I’d never understood why such a refined man as he seemed to take delight in my sharp tongued ways, in my hot temper. Once when I asked him he had said:

“Cool blooded creatures seek the warmth, bask in the sun.”

 And he more I was blunt and crude, the more it seemed to amuse him.

This train of thoughts unfortunately brought me back to the Hound and Sansa, making me draw parallels between them and us, but my mind revolted at these. I would never be as _ coarse_ as that uncouth man, and prim Sansa took no pleasure in his cursing, I was sure!

Jaqen had stopped laughing abruptly, his pale grey eyes boring into mine intently.  He came closer and kissed the hair on top of my head. He did that often, but tonight that was an unusual intensity emanating from him and I took a step back instinctively, skittish about it.

“Listen,” I said to distract him, “Sansa has delivered another _girl_ again! Imagine that bloody Hound being surrounded and overwhelmed by all these _delicate_ females in his own house, having to dry their tears all day!  I’d kill to see this!”

It didn’t have the desired effect on Jaqen. He closed the distance between us by coming closer again and I felt really uncomfortable now.

“A man is not attracted to boys,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Well, good for you then!” I replied brightly, trying not to show him my unease by staying still. _Was he angry at what I had said?_ He raised a hand and stroked my cheek and throat softly, gingerly. I started to tremble and removed his hand from my face, scowling.

“Stop that, Jaqen!”

“Why?”

He then laughed mockingly. Before I could divine his intent, his arms snaked around my middle and flattened me against his hard body. I was shocked. My heart started to pound madly and I averted my face from his.

“What are you doing?” I asked in a muffled tone, my lips moving below his shoulder.

I felt him lowering his head, his lips near my ear, whispering in his silken, seductive voice. “Is the girl afraid?” He bit my ear playfully, breathing softly against it. “Arya. Sweet little Arya.” I shivered all over.

His fingers grasped my chin firmly and turned my head to face him. I looked up at him, dizzy by the closeness. Jaqen was so handsome! As I had matured, my body had started to feel strange new stirrings, then urges, all related to this beguiling man and this had mortified me to no end, as I didn’t want him to know about it, spoiling everything.

“I’ll stay a maid because I don’t want to be bound to a man, running his household and breeding like rabbits!” I said weakly. _Like my sister._

“A girl knows it will not be that way with this man.”

His face was leaning down toward mine. I had known that in the unlikely event he would make advances to me that I couldn’t be able to resist him, and I couldn’t. I closed my eyes as his lips landed on mine, first soft, then more demanding. When he opened his mouth I let him part my lips with his tongue. He tasted good of sweet spices just as I had thought. Ignorant as I was, I learned in a few seconds, my own tongue turning hot, exploring his mouth deeply, hungrily as my fingers grasped his long hair. I had to stop to regain my breath and looked in his face. His eyes had narrowed and his usual cool expression had turned to one of need and desire. This thrilled me.

“Aaahhh, such fire, such passion. Burn the man, little dragon.”

He lifted me up and carried me to the bed, where he pounced on me. I welcomed him by tearing his thin tunic in half and parts of his britches too. He laughed. I buried my face in his chest, smelling his perfumed flesh with delight. But his hand behind the nape of my neck signaled the urgent need for my mouth to take care of his and I devoured it again and again. Without my noticing it, his hands had been divested me of my nightshift and I saw his long fingered hands grasping my little breasts urgently, then roaming on the rest of my body,  trailing little kisses until they ended on the insides of my thighs. I opened them shamelessly for him and bucked against his flickering and teasing tongue, which was eliciting blissful sensations from this most private part of me.

He stopped to remove the last of his tattered clothes and I saw that his slender body was almost hairless, except for some dark red hair around his manhood. He came back to poise himself over me, breathing heavily, his manhood pushing against my folds. I gave a mighty push and we rolled on the bed, with me now on top of him. I leaned down to kiss him again, caressing his chest and flanks, relishing the feel of hard muscles beneath his soft skin. He smiled in appreciation as I crouched over his hips, grasping his manhood to point the tip at my entrance.

“The girl is bold. The girl is fearless.”

Maybe, maybe not. As I pushed his man part inside, I felt a tearing pain but the burning sensation was insignificant to the greater fire I felt waiting to burn further inside of me. I moved gingerly at first, unused to be filled this way but soon developed a pace which created a most wonderful friction inside, watching Jaqen throw his head back, his features constricted with a pleasure that I, the little runt, was creating.  His large grey eyes opened, a spark jumping in them, warning me of his next move. He rolled over me while keeping us joined, his long hair falling on each side of my face like curtains, and drove faster and harder inside of me. I felt the accumulation of pleasure bursting like fireworks and wrapped my legs and arms around him, moaning and calling his name, my face pressed against his throat. While he was not as loud as I, he was breathing in hard gasps now and I felt a sudden surge of warmth inside me as he stiffened and gave the last deep thrusts.

After we had regained our breath, I was lying on my back next to him as he was supporting his head in his hand, watching me with a faint smile. His other arm was lying across my middle, keeping me close to him.

“A girl is a woman now.”

And I wasn’t sure that I liked my new state. I felt so vulnerable now, filled with a deep longing. We had often slept together on journeys, huddled together for warmth but casually, like companions, but now I wanted to bury my face in his chest, hold him tightly, as I was afraid that this unexpected bed romp would separate us. I felt upset, like if I wanted to cry, wanting to hide this from him.

My face must have reflected my torment as his expression changed to one of concern.

“What is wrong?”

“You must think that I was so easy to acquire.”

He leaned down to kiss my hair and chuckled.

“Easy? A girl is jesting. She was fighting this since she had become of age; a man thought that it would never happen.”

 “Oh. But his will change things between us,” I wailed.

An expression of deep tenderness suffused his face, warming it. He smiled and caressed my hair.

“It will, for the better. Now we are truly joined.”

 


End file.
